And―and he wanted to help you. But—Miss Pellissier!” “Well?” “Are you quite sure that you want us this evening? Wouldn’t you rather be alone? Just say the word, and we’ll clear out like a shot. ” A flush of excitement crept into her cheeks. The birds were singing blithely amid the trees,—the lowing of the cows resounded from the yard,—a delicious perfume from the garden was wafted through the open window,—at a distance, the church-bells of Willesden were heard tolling for evening service. He was snoring stupidly. Still—you must learn for yourself. He was in evening dress: swallow-tailed coat and white tie. He was Julian five years younger, the spitting image.
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